45 Days In
by JaguarFiction
Summary: It started in Atlanta and spread like wildfire. A small group in Illinois have found shelter, a refuge from the growing herd of Walker's outside. However, they will soon learn that help isn't coming, and the Walker's aren't their only threat. Set in TWD universe, comics considered canon. Original characters...at least initially.


A drawn out shadow shuffled under the highway sign that read 'Chicago – 160 miles', accompanied by a lone growl. The male Walker moved aimlessly through the vehicle clad highway, long since abandoned by the fleeing masses. Forty-five days, and barely a car had moved, a grave tribute to the world they lived in.

The Walkers head awkwardly arched upward as the dying sun shot across its eyes, groaning in discontent. Towards the far side of the highway came audible clanking, a slow ship like turn towards him. Grunting and sniffling, the Walker approached the five door hatchback, its metallic blue paint struggling to pierce the coating of smeared blood across its body.

Its exposed right cheekbone tapped against the back window, growling excitedly by movement in the backseat. Its head jerked back when the worn electric window on the driver's side screeched downward until it was open.

The Walker shuffled along the car. Its head slid through the window, turning in almost robotic fashion to view the backseat. A fisherman's spear burst through its eye and out its head, the impact jolting it to the ground. From the backseat, two young men emerged, Ethan Parker and Lucas Sullivan.

"Jesus, man. He was close enough to climbing in with us," the cola skinned Ethan scolded with his thick British accent. "I've told you before to cut that shit out, yeah?"

Crouched over the dead Walker, Lucas yanked the fishing spear from its face. There was no satisfaction, numb as his own baby blues stared into the remaining soulless eye of the Walker. At one time it had a name – a family. Then like so many, it rose from the dead, to claim his.

"Shit man," Ethan complained, his open palm slamming on the door. "You splashed it all over the interior. You're going to clean this."

Ethan, he talked too much. Maybe the sound of his own voice was soothing, but to Lucas, it was like being stuck with his Grandmother's yapping Chihuahua again. It was almost funny, never sure if each day would be his last, food and supplies running low, Walkers an ever present threat. Yet, the one thing that grated on him was Ethan's voice. The gentle smirk on his dimpled cheeks quickly faded – almost funny.

"Let's get this over with," he said, standing.

"All yours, brother," Ethan invited, rubbing his close shaven head, surveying the highway for any signs of movement. "Walker's or not, this place creeps me out."

Lucas opened the driver's side door, pulling out a small blue bag and empty gasoline tank before returning to the Walker. Kneeling down, unzipping the bag. "Relax, the highway has been scarce for days now," he assured.

"Scarce doesn't mean they're not around," he snapped back quickly.

Lucas chuckled, putting on his second rubber glove. Sliding a paper breathing mask over his mouth and nose, he finally pulled a pocket knife out of the bag. The blade flicked up, a glance back at Ethan who cringed, turning his back in disgust.

"Besides," Ethan started again, refusing to turn back around. "They didn't just disappear. Where did they all go?"

"To where the food is."

A quick flick of his wrist, the blade slit across the Walker's throat, Ethan's disgusted groan drawing a smile from behind the mask.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The blood covered rubber gloves dropped into the pot of boiling water, a wooden spoon immediately pushing them down, mixing with the other gloves in the pot.

"There was barely enough to coat the car for a run," Aidan lamented, taking off his breathing mask, brushing the back of his neck length pony tail on the way passed.

He could barely see her, lit up only by the faint glow of the fire that boiled their water. It was a kitchen in name only, the appliances cold and lifeless, the stove rendered useless by the lack of electricity. Much like everything else they used to take for granted.

A couple more stirs, the mask covered petite blonde left the pot to boil, removing her mask once clear. "It's the same report from everyone," Sienna replied, head down, her jade green eyes lifted to meet his smile. "Maybe it's time to stop playing it safe."

His smile widened, but a less than subtle throat clearing dragged his frustrated gaze towards the kitchen door. Malcolm Porter, it was like that hairless dome he called a head had radar whenever Aidan got within twenty feet.

"Aidan, if you don't mind, I'd like a word with my daughter."

No point in arguing, a prolonged stare and apologetic look was all he was got from Sienna. Half man, half bulldog, just his luck, Malcolm had to be related to the one girl who piqued his interest, and a subtle sneer beneath his beard showed Aidan that his feelings were mutual.

He walked outside to greet the night, the nursing home parking lot filled with almost a dozen cars. A couple of weeks ago there was half that number. Damn Frank, always on the radio trying to make contact, an invitation to every stray looking for sanctuary.

They had no sooner gotten word of reports from Atlanta when it hit. No warning, like a tsunami - except he had never seen a tsunami rip someone's skin clean off their face. That first night there were more than twenty of them, by the time they reached the nursing home they were down to seven. After cleaning out what was left of the 'residents' they closed the gate.

A brick wall surrounded the complex, mounted with the corpses of dead Walker's, and stained with their blood. The smell was horrendous, but it was the one thing keeping the masses from swarming the complex. Everything in their world had value, even dead Walker's.

"After a while, it almost feels like they're humming."

Aidan stopped to listen to the hungry growls of Walker's outside the complex. After while it became white noise, filtered out to prevent it from driving him insane. "You like it so much, go out there and sing along with them, Katie."

Perched halfway up the staircase, Katie chuckled, using the railings to slide down to the ground beside him. "I doubt their table manners are worse than yours."

Aidan did it without thinking. He felt her surprisingly strong bicep tense when he grabbed it to prevent her from walking away. From just below the brim of her black bandana, her brown eyes stared into his.

"I was out there for thirty days. You're not the first guy – or thing - to grab me like that."

"It's not like that."

Her smile returned. "I'd hope not, you wouldn't know what to do with me."

He yanked her back when she tried to pry free. She was strong, but he was stronger. "You think this is a fucking joke? You're right, you were out there for thirty days, and we let you in. You can spend all night and day outside and pretend you're not with us, but try to show some damn appreciation."

"Appreciation, as if you built this place with your own hands," she said. Her words weakened his grasp enough to jerk free. "You stumbled into this place, like the rest of us. Just because you got here first doesn't make you entitled."

His wide jaw clenched, the clunking footsteps of her leather boots taunting him with every step. Then they stopped, curiosity turning his body to see her standing with her back at him.

"I don't think this is a joke, but there isn't a happy ending for us here – any of us," she explained. "Sometimes all you can do when faced with the inevitable is watch it come and welcome it with a smile on your face."

The growing hum of Walker's soon drowned out her footsteps. Aidan watched her find a new spot at the other end of the complex gardens. He stood alone, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. Her words were those of a desperate woman, living in denial. Time was their only enemy, a cure would come. She wasn't right. She couldn't be. Could she?

XxXxXxXxXxX

The beam wavered on the concrete ramp as the flashlight quivered in Gary's hand, his other grasping ever tighter on the baseball bat. Darkness closed around him, the streetlights had long ceased working. He was an accountant; he spent his life in a small office crunching numbers and dealing with over entitled suits who always wanted a larger slice of the pie. This wasn't what he was trained for.

His light ran along the ramp, the beam exploring the lower level of the mall car park, littered with abandoned cars. Shadows moved with frightening regularity, even his own feet as they shuffled backwards seemed to echo behind him.

He stopped, but the footsteps continued towards him. He spun around, the flashlight meeting the bearded man's face. Gary let out a yell moments before his mouth was covered by the man's hand, Malcolm's stern expression voicing his displeasure.

His heart pounding, Gary pushed Malcolm's hand away. "Don't sneak up on me like that," he said, wiping his nerve sweated brow with a silk handkerchief from the pocket of his salmon pink business shirt.

"You wandered," Malcolm growled softly, eyes following the handkerchief back into Gary's pocket.

"I got turned around, and before I knew it you were gone."

Malcolm nudged his tyre iron against Gary's chest, he cut an imposing figure to the uninitiated, but Gary had known Malcolm since high school, he was his best man when he got married. His big bad wolf impression wasn't going to fluster him.

"If you get lost; radio."

"Radio's dead, probably the batteries," he replied, yanking the radio from his belt. He shoved it back into Malcolm's chest, his courage rediscovered. "Besides, if Walker's are passing by it'll lead them straight to you? I'm not going to tell Sienna her dad's dead because I needed to phone home."

Malcolm turned the dials, the radio lifeless. "It's a system that's worked for us so far."

"Believe me, we need a new system."

Malcolm holstered the dead radio, bringing his own to his mouth. "Frank, you heard anything else?"

The response was laced with static. "Not pick…anything…more minutes, then…base."

Before Malcolm could respond, a single gunshot tore through the air, echoing across the desolate city streets.

"Bravo, what was that? Can I get a status report?" he requested, receiving prolonged silence. The two of them looked at each other, concerned. "Bravo – status."

Drawn from Malcolm by a growing number of groans, Gary turned towards the pitch black car parks lower level. No amount of swallowing could dispel the lump in his throat as he shone the flashlight inward. Immediately their eyes lit up, the growls intensifying as did their movements, dozens of snarling disfigured Walkers reached for them from a distance.

"Get back to the car!"

Flashing the torch towards the end of the street, more Walkers ambled around the corner, herded towards the light after the gunshot stirred them. Malcolm stepped back, bumping into Gary who was flashing his light in the other direction, Walkers on either side, boxing them in.

Gary's flashlight bounced from Walker to Walker, cutting across the concrete ramp to the parking lots upper level. Reaching back he grabbed Malcolm's shirt, tugging at him. "Come on, this way!" he yelled, sprinting towards the ramp.

Reaching the ramp before the Walkers could converge to block it off, rushing up it with no thought of looking back at the trailing herd. At the top of the ramp Gary stopped, Walker's scattered amongst the abandoned cars, drawn to their frantic arrival.

Hearing a growl, his eyes darted down. A teeth baring Walker, rising with blood lust inspired speed towards him. He braced himself for impact when the tyre iron swung in front, crushing the Walker's face like a watermelon, dropping it to the ground in a bloody heap.

"Keep moving," Malcolm said, forcefully pushing Gary forward.

Every Walker they passed snapped, hands reaching out. Their numbers were growing as quickly as they were running out of places to run. Ducking and weaving between the last rows of cars, they reached the safety barrier. Looking down, a few stray Walkers were their only obstacle, but the drop was steep.

"We have to jump," Malcolm said, Gary flashing his light back, a thick wall of Walkers had formed, closing in on them from every angle.

"Alpha, this is Bravo, are you there?" a female voice called through the radio.

Malcolm tore the radio from his belt. "Bravo, where are you? We're cornered on the second level car park, Walkers closing in."

"Hold them off, Alpha, we're on the way."

"Hold them off?" Gary cried in disbelief. "Is she kidding?"

Malcolm responded violently, charging forward to belt the closest Walker across the head, sending it sprawling against a parked car. "You either fight or die."

An engine revved loud in the distance, Gary glancing down towards the end of the street as headlights beamed down the road. A black SUV scattered two Walkers, taking out a third as it skidded when turning towards the car park.

"Damn it, Gary, fight!" Malcolm cried, signalling them with several bursts of the flashlight.

Gary swung hard as a Walker tried to flank to their left, knocking it down against the concrete barrier before a second swing crushed its head hard against it.

Two more Walkers skipped ahead, Gary and Malcolm taking one each, blood and brains scattering backwards towards the encroaching herd. Beneath them tyres screeched to a halt, the horn honking twice but doing little to distract the Walkers.

Gary crushed another, but within seconds found himself back against the concrete barrier. There were too many. Looking down, the SUV roof sat right beneath him. A glance at Malcolm, they didn't need to exchange words.

Malcolm made the decision for him before he could react, stepping forward protectively, swinging hard at any Walker who dared get too close. Climbing the barrier, Gary took one more look back, a deep breath, jumping. The distance closed in a split second, his feet landing true, but momentum sent him tumbling off the roof to the hard concrete below.

He landed with a thud, the air dispersing from his body. He gasped, trying to suck it back in. A shadow hovered over him, turning far enough to see the lifeless eyes of a Walker. He was motionless, helpless to stop the attack.

Bang! A gunshot echoed in his ears, the Walker dropping beside him. He looked back, Malcolm stood atop the SUV. It wasn't him who made the shot. The SUV door hung open, an exhausted looking woman half out, the gun still aimed at where the Walker was.

The gun lowered, glancing between Malcolm and Gary. "Get in."

Gary forced himself onto all fours, Malcolm swooping down from the roof to help drag him up, opening the back door. The two of them piled in, the male driver accelerating and turning from the car park before the door closed again.

"Who are you?" Malcolm demanded, the two strangers glancing at each other without reply.

Intending to look out the back window at the slowly pursuing herd of Walker's, Gary instead found Tanya, a member of Bravo. Solemn, head down, it drew Gary's eyes to the motionless body lying next to her. The African-American male with a gunshot wound to the head, a large bite wound on his right shoulder.

"Oh God, Andre."

Gary faced forward; slumping in his seat as Malcolm reacted, looking back. His eyes lifted to the rear view mirror, catching the driver as he glanced. Malcolm fell back, back pressed against the car door, rubbing his face, shaken.

Gary shied away from the distraught Malcolm, eyes to the outside, Walker's stationed around every street corner as they passed. He feared the answer, but had to ask. "What happened to him?"


End file.
